All Chapters of More than a billionaires contract : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Zara’s povThe investor's hand was still in the air when I decided that I was done.“Say that again,” I said quietly.I was trying so hard not to get out of character because this man was crossing many lines and even though this was the last investor on the list that has decided to have a meeting with me, I’d rather slit my throat than have anything to do with him.“I said, funding doesn’t come for free. Not in this world and clearly not for someone like you.” He said as he leaned back on his chair, smirking now.Someone like you. That phrase landed heavier than anything else in the room.The restaurant around us kept pretending not to hear—soft music, expensive laughter, the gentle clink of glasses from people who didn’t know their lives were falling apart in real time.Mine was already falling apart. Three years. Three good years of building a company from nothing but stubbornness and broken sleep. Three years of telling myself I didn’t need anyone’s approval. And now I’m sittin

Zara No one has ever asked me that kind question before, not in a setting like this. Not in an office or boardroom. Not across a desk. This kind of question usually belongs somewhere more private. More complicated. And for a second I hated how quickly my mind noticed that difference. I shift slightly in my seat, forcing myself to stay composed. “This is not what I came here for.” I responded My voice doesn’t sound as steady as I want it to. The silence the followed was awkward to me but not for him because he was still looking at me like he knew I was not done talking. I inhale slowly, trying to steady myself “I need an investor,” I say finally. “ My company is falling apart. We are out of funds, out of time and out of options.”I pause and continue anyway “I just need to keep it alive. The company is very important to me and I don’t want to lose it.” I placed the folder on the desk. It felt ridiculous the moment I did it. He doesn’t even look at it, not even once, he just kee

Zara’s pov I was small again. Too small for the weight pressing down on my chest.“Stay back.” “No— please—“The hallways stretched in front of me like it had no end, the walls slightly bending as though the house itself was breathing. My bare feet made no sound against the floor, but I could hear everything else too clearly—the voices crashing through the house, sharp and unbroken. Then a heavy sound hit the ground.My chest tightened immediately. I always knew where I was going before I even reached the sitting room. The door stood slightly opened, creaking softly as I pushed it with a small hand that didn’t feel like mine. My fingers hesitated for a while before I stepped inside. She was there. On the floor. “Mama?” My voice came out small. Thin. Almost swallowed by the silence. I moved slowly, my legs shaking as I got closer. Broken glass crumbed under my feet, sharp and bright against the dim floor. I didn’t care. Her hair was spread across the floor, one arm slightly t

River Rain streaked through the windows of my office, forty floor above London. The city looked the way it always did—profitable, predictable, mine. The door opened without a knock. “You really need to learn how to knock,” I said, not looking up. “You really need to learn how to answer your phone,” Oliver dropped into the chair across my desk like he owned it. “I called you six times.” I set my pen down slowly. “I was busy.” “You are always busy. It’s your entire personality at this point.” He didn’t wait for me to respond. “Tomorrow. Ten PM. Dinner. I have cleared your schedule for the evening.” “Very thoughtful of you.” “I do try.” “I don’t recall approving that.” “You don’t have to. I did it for you.” I looked up then, meeting his eyes. Oliver was grinning. “Who am I having dinner with?” “Your girlfriend.” “I don’t recall having one either.” “Oh yes you do,” he said nodding. “It's just been two weeks . Don’t tell me that you have forgotten about her.” “I have every

Zara I sat there, fork in hand, trying not to stare at people at the restaurant whose eyes had been on me since River sat down at the table.The restaurant had gone back to its normal noise—clicking glasses, soft conversations, the gentle murmur of people pretending to not be watching us. But I could feel the attention now. The cameras in people’s phones. The whispers about who we were. Then I saw her. She was blonde. Expensive looking in a polished way that comes from money and good skincare and knowing exactly how to present herself. Her dress probably cost more than her rent. Her make up was perfect. But there was something about the way she moved that betrayed the desperation underneath—the way she was trying to look casual while doing something that required all her focus. I watched her scam the restaurant as though she was gathering courage to do something before the hostess walked up to her. I couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but I could sense something was wro